


A Quantum of Continuity

by Azzandra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dad!Sylvain, Gen, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22257994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzandra/pseuds/Azzandra
Summary: Ingrid hadn't seen Sylvain in eight years, but she certainly wasn't expecting to run into him in a grocery store, with a young child in tow.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	A Quantum of Continuity

When it happened, Ingrid thought she had to be seeing things, because a random grocery store on a Thursday afternoon while she was browsing the rice cake selection was the strangest possible place for this encounter.

She was still holding a package of rice cakes in hand as she rounded to the other aisle, and nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Sylvain in that grocery store. She stood dumbstruck, not sure if she was more amazed by the fact that this was the first time she had seen her childhood friend in eight years, or the fact that he was crouched down in front of the cereal shelves with a small child.

"And what letter is this?" Sylvain asked, pointing to the name of the cereal, written in large gaudily-colored letters. "Do you remember?"

"Um..." The child, probably no older than four or five, stuck their thumb in their mouth as they pondered the question, large brown eyes glued to the letter Sylvain was indicating.

After a short pause, Sylvain dangled a clue.

"Look, it's got two bumps," he pointed out, tracing the the outline of the letter on the cereal box. "Like a busy little--"

"Bee!" the child piped up brightly, proud to have figured it out. "It's a B! It's a B!"

"That's right!" Sylvain proclaimed, and ruffled the child's hair. 

Now buoyed by the success, the child pointed out to the next letters, apparently easier for them to identify.

"An' that's an O. An' that's an N," they said with a finger poking at each letter, and looking to Sylvain's face in-between each one for confirmation they were correct. Sylvain had a fond grin the entire time, softer and kinder than Ingrid had seen of him before he disappeared off the face of Fodlan.

Or, well. Apparently not disappeared. Had he been in Garreg Mach this entire time? Whose child was that?

The click of her heels against the tiles was strangely loud to Ingrid's own ears, but it didn't draw Sylvain or the child's attention until she was practically right up to them. 

"Sylvain?" she said.

Sylvain's head craned up towards her, and she could pinpoint the exact moment he recognized her, because the grin melted off his face like an ice cube on a hot plate. He rose to his feet, unfolding to his full height as if in slow motion, and the accompanying child clamped onto his leg as he did, staring up at Ingrid apprehensively. 

"Ingrid!" Sylvain said, and the smile he plastered across his face was his fake one. She didn't know if she had gotten older and wiser and better at seeing through it, or if Sylvain was out of practice putting his best face on. "You're looking look. Short hair suits you. How've you been?"

"I've been-- good," Ingrid answered lamely, stopping herself from going off on a diatribe about how they were all worried Sylvain had ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. Not that Sylvain didn't deserve the lecture, but the small child clamped onto his leg already looked wary of her. "And you?"

"Pretty great, actually," he said, and shrugged. 

He was wearing ragged jeans and a dark teal hoodie, a far cry from the peacock ostentation of his old playboy days. Ingrid didn't know what to make of this, except the closer she looked for the usual signs of Sylvain hitting rock bottom, the more confused she became.

Almost unconsciously, Sylvain reached down to ruffle the hair of the child at his side.

"And who's this?" Ingrid asked, gesturing to toddler. Was it a toddler? Pre-schooler, maybe? She was terrible at telling these things.

"Oh!" Sylvain grinned down at the child. "This is my son, Guillaume. Say hello to the nice lady, Gee."

"Hello," the boy said quickly, then hid his face against Sylvain's pant leg.

Ingrid felt her mind stutter as she had to adjust her perception of reality. Sylvain had a smug look on his face that Ingrid was used to seeing in entirely different contexts, and while she'd never discounted the possibility that, in the course of his womanizing, Sylvain would beget himself a child, she never would have expected him to look so proud of such an outcome.

Quite frankly, she would have sooner pegged him for the type to pony up money for an abortion and never speak to the woman he'd gotten into trouble ever again.

"H-hello, Guillaume," Ingrid said, starting to crouch down at the boy's eye level.

"No, don't do that," Sylvain waved his hands to stop her, as Guillaume flinched away and shuffled to hide behind Sylvain's back. "He doesn't like it."

Well. Apparently Sylvain was spending enough time with his child that he knew that kind of thing about him, but now Ingrid had far, far more questions than she'd started out with.

Sylvain scooped up the child in his arms, settling Guillaume on his hip. Guillaume tried to bury his face into Sylvain shirt, but at Sylvain's gentle coaxing, he managed to give Ingrid a shy look.

"It's okay, this is Ingrid," Sylvain assured. "She's nicer than she looks."

Guillaume waved at Ingrid briefly--haltingly--before hiding his face again.

"Sylvain... do your parents know?" Ingrid asked.

Something dark passed over Sylvain's face then, and he shrugged, busying himself with adjusting Guillaume's shirt and patting his back. 

"I didn't tell them," he said, "and as far as I know, they're still waiting for me to come crawling back to them after they cut me off."

"Sylvain," Ingrid sighed. "They have a right--"

"If they're so big on family," Sylvain cut her off, "they can try again with Miklan."

The name dropped between them with a clunk. If Sylvain's brother was out there, somewhere, Ingrid didn't think she'd stumble upon the man in circumstances half as rosy as Sylvain's. It was one thing for the Gautiers to use money as a cudgel against Sylvain's bad behavior, but Miklan would not be given even that much benefit of his parents' interest. The last display of generosity they'd had towards their eldest son was covering the bill for his last stay in rehab.

"Don't you want Guillaume to meet his grandparents?" Ingrid asked.

Guillaume's face turned curiously towards Ingrid at this question, which was for the best, considering the dark look that passed over Sylvain's face. She knew immediately that she had misstepped.

"Don't play that card, Ingrid," Sylvain said, his voice low but dangerous. 

"Sorry," Ingrid said. "Sorry, I just-- You haven't spoken to any of us in years."

"Yeah, well. Been busy," Sylvain replied. "I'm sure the rest of you had better things to do, too."

Ingrid supposed so, but now that she was standing before Sylvain, she wasn't sure anything any of them had done came as close to surprising as Sylvain apparently taking to fatherhood.

"Let's stay in touch," Ingrid said, taking out her phone. "It shouldn't be another eight years before we speak again."

Sylvain gave a hollow laugh at that. "Sure," he said, and took out his own phone. 

They exchanged contact information with the perfunctory quality of colleagues or acquaintances, as though they hadn't practically grown up together. When Sylvain left to continue his shopping, he didn't even look back, instead speaking in hushed voices with Guillaume. She couldn't hear what they were saying over the rattling wheels of the shopping cart.

Ingrid was barely outside the grocery store when she whipped out her phone again, and dialed Felix's number. 

She had to tell someone else of this encounter before the sheer strangeness of it even sank in.

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't shake the image of Sylvain as a stay-at-home dad, so I had to write this fic. And let's be real, he'd probably be happy with that kind of life. Does he still flirt with women? Sure, but it's mostly with wine moms at the PTA meetings so he can get his way.
> 
> I didn't mention who his partner would be, if any, but I did have an earlier draft in which it was Byleth. I just got blocked, so I rewrote it with a different focus.
> 
> But here's a bit of how it went, for the curious:
> 
> _"Do you want to meet the rest of the family?" Sylvain asked, and Ingrid didn't have time to answer one way or another before Sylvain turned to smile brightly at a woman approaching them. "Hey, babe. Found the tea you wanted?"_
> 
> _"I don't think they carry that blend," came the reply._
> 
> _The woman was dressed business casual, in a dark turtleneck sweater and slacks, in odd contrast to Sylvain's more casual attire. But as she approached, Guillaume unpeeled himself from Sylvain's side, and reached out a tiny hand towards the woman. She smoothed down the boy's dark hair, the same shade as her own, and then, while looking at Sylvain, tilted her head towards Ingrid, in an unspoken question._
> 
> _"This is Ingrid," Sylvain said. "I told you about her, right? We practically grew up together."_
> 
> _"Ah!" the woman said, and extended a hand. "Byleth Eisner. A pleasure to meet you."_
> 
> _Eisner. Not Gautier, and Ingrid noticed. And Sylvain, by the look on his face, noticed that she noticed, and all but dared her to mention in."_


End file.
